


One step forward

by HelloIAmHereToObserve



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Anxious Laura, F/F, Implied/Referenced Suicide, depressed carm, lots of mental health discussion, tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-16 21:23:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5841460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloIAmHereToObserve/pseuds/HelloIAmHereToObserve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla has depression; Laura has anxiety. Enterprising sisters and luck get them to meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Maybe not the worst idea

**Author's Note:**

> I may have abandoned the other thing that I was writing. Well, I may return to it. You never know. This is based fairly heavily on my own experience; not the specifics, but in dealing with depression. My partner's got anxiety (and maybe a little OCD). Do be warned there's some fairly trigger-sensitive stuff in here, so if discussions of suicide are on that list for you, please don't read it. Be safe, everyone.

The thing about being depressed is that some of the time, you can't tell. Mostly, Carmilla felt bored. Bored with getting up in the morning, bored with playing bass, bored with going outside, bored with sitting inside, bored with existing. It was a monumental effort to care enough about anything to get out of bed, and she just didn't give enough of a fuck to do it. She probably wouldn't have left her apartment if it wasn't for Mattie, and she sure as shit wouldn't have dragged herself to the doctor's office, and there was no way in hell she'd have signed herself up for counselling, and yet here she was, sinking into the plush chair in the office like a lead weight, staring blankly at the wall as though it could offer her insight. Mostly, she just hated it less than anything else in the room that she might have looked at. She'd already glanced; bookshelves, clock, desk, office plants. Counsellor.

“So, Carmilla, what brought you here today?”

“My sister,” she answered flatly. The woman behind the desk smiled breifly, which gave Carmilla a stab of annoyance. _Yeah, sure. This was a great idea._

“As sure as I am that your sister probably drives you crazy, I doubt she's the reason you feel the need to talk to someone. So, what seems to be on your mind?”

“I'm depressed,” she snarked, managing to sound more than a little annoyed. Small victories. “Apparently.”

“What makes you think that?”

Carmilla stared her down while the woman smiled politely at her. She could wait, very patiently, until their hour was up; Mattie would drive her home, and she could go back to sitting in her dark room and staring at the ceiling for the rest of eternity.

“You don't have to talk to me; It's up to you, but I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's okay. Do you find yourself sleeping a lot?”

_Yes._ More than she did even in college, and that was saying a lot.

“Do you find you have a small appetite, or can't seem to find the energy to feed yourself?”

_Yes._ She shifted a little uneasily.

“Have you noticed that you feel useless, or that you can't seem to care about things that you used to?”

Carmilla re-affixed her eyes to the wall.

“How useless do you feel, generally?”

“Enough,” she answered shortly. She'd been kicking herself around the bedroom for days, verbally flaying herself over the fact that she hadn't done anything, which didn't help her productivity any. She couldn't remember the last time she'd showered, prior to Mattie showing up at her apartment this morning to pick her up for her appointment.

“I'm not qualified to diagnose, but feelings of uselessness or apathy and excessive sleeping can often be signs of depression. If you feel that this fits you, it may benefit you to talk about it, or it may benefit you to try medication.”

She scoffed loudly. Like she would ever; pop a pill to make her happy? No thanks. Sounded too much like Stepford, or complete bullshit. She hadn't made up her mind on that yet.

“Medication helps in a large number of cases, so don't knock it just yet,” the counsellor gave her a dry smile. “It's not necessary, though. Many people find they can manage their depression without medication, but it takes hard work and dedication.”

“What kind of hard work?” She asked suspiciously.

 

And that was how she met Laura Hollis.

 

“Hi, I'm Laura, and I have anxiety. A lot of anxiety. Mostly performance anxiety, but some social anxiety too, and maybe a little bit of OCD, but they haven't actually diagnosed me for that because they want me to work on the anxiety part first. I'm rambling. I do that with new people, because it stresses me out. Meeting people. Not that you're stressful or anything, just...”

“Woah, cupcake,” Carmilla held up both hands in what she hoped would be interpreted as a calming gesture, and not incredibly rude. “Remember to breathe.”

“Uhmm... yeah,” Laura grinned at her briefly. “Sorry. Um. What's your name?”

“Carmilla.”

Laura waited for a second, shoulders hunched, hands in her pockets. Carmilla could see her fidgeting with something.

“That's all? Just Carmilla?”

“Yep.”

Laura fidgeted some more, digging her toe into the dirt.

“So, why'd you sign up for the Buddy Program?”

 

“ _The Buddy Program is a way of meeting people dealing with similar difficulties. If you find it difficult to talk to a counsellor, you might have an easier time opening up to a peer. They try to match you with someone in your age group, if they can, so that you're on an even footing.” The leaflet was coloured in blues and greens, which Carmilla strongly suspected was supposed to be calming._

“ _How is this any better than talking to one of you stooges?” Carmilla turned the leaflet over, but it was just the one page._

“ _Everyone you'll meet will have an idea of what you're going through; having your brain essentially rebell against you. They'll all be facing similar obstacles, in similar contexts, and they'll be more able to understand what you're going through, and how difficult it is.”_

“ _And what if I don't want to talk to anyone?”_

“ _You might find it hard to manage on your own – nobody's born with perfect coping mechanisms, or survival tactics, but you can always learn them.”_

 

“I didn't. My sister signed me up.”

“Oh, that's cool. I wish I had a sister; I'm an only child. My dad thinks that's might be why I'm so anxious, because I feel like I have to work too hard or something, but I think it's... probably not that. Um. Sorry.”

“Don't apologize, cupcake. I'm just. I'm not talkative.”

“That's okay, you don't have to be. I can probably talk enough for both of us. Did you want to, like, walk around the park or something?”

The park where everyone was meeting their “Buddy” was alongside the beach, and had a pretty spectacular walk around the outside, but that wasn't Carmilla's primary interest.

“Sure.” The crowd of people, twenty or so, was starting to make her itchy. There were enough of them that her rudimentary social skills were next to useless.

“Cool. Big groups of people make me a little nervous. How do you talk to that many people?”

“Beats me,” Carmilla shrugged noncomittally, but she felt her chest loosen up a little bit. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all.

“So, um. PTSD or depression?”

Carmilla whipped her head around to stare, a little lance of anger sticking in her throat. Laura seemed to notice that she'd overstepped, because she backpedalled almost immediately.

“Um, I'm sorry, I just thought... you don't really seem nervous, just withdrawn, I guess? And I know some kinds of anxiety have a similar affect on people, it's not like I haven't done my research, but I'm not getting the anxiety vibe off you, and the Buddy Program really only deals with depression, mild to moderate PTSD and anxiety, so... I'll just shut up now.” Which she did, immediately, as her ears turned bright red.

They walked for half a minute or so, while Carmilla tried to muster up something to say. She'd never been super social, she supposed, but she'd never had such a hard time talking to people before; like the weeks of living by herself in her apartment had atrophied all the muscles she used to use for conversation. She wasn't sure she wanted to talk at all, or think about how shitty she felt, or get into painful discussions with a complete stranger, either. But, on the other hand...

“Depression,” she managed finally. It wasn't Laura's fault; if her high-strung mental passenger was anywhere near as much of a burden as Carmilla's fierce self-loathing, it wasn't really a surprise that she wasn't well equipped to have an average conversation.

“I'm really sorry I pushed you.”

“It's... it's fine. I just... don't want to talk about it.”

“Isn't that the point of the Buddy Program, though? To talk to people who understand?”

“It seemed like a better option than...” Than anti-depressants. Than talking to a counsellor. Than staring at nothing while she wondered how long it would take for her to starve.

“Yeah.”

They walked in silence for a while. It was kind of nice, being outside, near the water, with some trees around, and someone who maybe wasn't the worst thing to happen to Carmilla in a while. She glanced over at Laura, who seemed deep in thought.

“So... do you go to school?”

“Not right now. I'm taking a break. It ramped up my issues pretty badly, kinda to the point where I lost ten pounds in a month. Which might not sound like a lot, but when you're my size, it kind of is.” She glanced over at Carmilla. “Well, you probably _do_ know that. I was worried my hair was going to start falling out. Um. So. Right now I'm just living with my dad and trying to get through the days one at a time. What about you?”

“No, I finished.” Technically not a lie; she'd done two years and then quit. She didn't need college - she had enough trust fund to last her the rest of her life. She'd just done it to be less bored.

“What did you take?”

“Philosophy.”

“Ooooh, the study of the nature of the soul,” Laura wiggled her eyebrows. Carmilla barked out a short laugh, almost surprising herself. “That's pretty intense. I have some friends in philosophy. Or had. I think. Um. So. What do you do for fun?”

“Draw. Play bass guitar. Sit and stare at the watermark on the ceiling for untold hours.” Laura laughed, loudly, and Carmilla felt the corners of her mouth twitch up. “You?”

“I vlog a lot. I find it helps to talk, even if it's just about stupid things, like my day, or the neighbour's dog, or my dad's new steak marinade, which, by the way, was not as good as he thought it was. I also exercise a lot – martial arts, mostly, but I've been thinking about trying a team sport. It might help with how painfully awkward I am.” She shot Carmilla a grin, and Carmilla smirked back at her. There was a second where Laura seemed about to say something, and then she quickly pressed her lips together and turned her head, the tips of her ears going red again. “So, um. We should exchange phone numbers. So that if either of us need anything, we can help each other out. Like, text-therapy or something.”

“Sure.”

“Cool! I've never... I mean, it's going to be really nice to have someone I feel like... I guess kind of understands. Like, my dad is awesome and all, but he thinks anxiety is something you can fix with yoga and breathing exercises.” Carmilla laughed again. “Not that they don't help, or anything, but it's kind of like putting a band-aid on the chest of someone with a ruptuted lung, you know?”

“Yeah,” Carmilla admitted. She'd been trying the whole 'meditation and exercise' thing, but on the rare days where she could even work up the fucks to do it, all they did was give her an appetite for a couple hours, and maybe a short reprieve from the fact that she was wasting her life. Which was probably not a great thought to be having, especially when Laura was looking at her so expectantly. She dutifully rattled off her phone number, and then a few seconds later, her pocket pinged.

“Looks like you have a text,” Laura said, grinning. “Hey, listen, do you maybe want to get burgers sometime or something? Like, tomorrow, even? I could, um. We could just talk about whatever. No hard subjects. Or we could talk about hard subjects, if you want, but no pressure or anything, because...”

“Cupcake, seriously,” Carmilla held up her hands again, and Laura mimed zipping her mouth shut. “You don't have to convince me. I'm down.”

You'd have to pull her teeth out with pliers to get her to admit it, but for the first time in a very long time she'd felt something that might have resembled happiness.

 

Cupcake 9:45 PM: Hey, Carm, thanks for talking to me today, I had a lot of fun!

Cupcake 9:45 PM: Can I call you Carm, is that ok? I mean we only just met

Cupcake 9:45 PM: If it's not ok, that's ok, just tell me.

Cupcake 9:46 PM: I'm rambling. Over text. This is a new low for me.

Carmilla 9:48 PM: It's fine cupcake

Carmilla 9:51 PM: The rambling and the nickname

Cupcake 9:52 PM: Thanks, Carm. Have a good night :)

Carmilla 10:01 PM: You too

 


	2. Definitely the worst idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which troubles happen

  
Carmilla awoke to her phone blaring at her. She cracked her eyes just enough to see that it was eleven thirty, and that there was a tiny note under the time.

Lunch with Laura.

She shut the alarm off and rolled over.

Sure, it was all well and good to make plans when she was outside, in the fresh air and spring sunshine, with someone who didn't make her feel like crawling into a hole, but now that she was actually having to wake up and leave her apartment...

Maybe she could cancel.

Yeah, Laura would understand. Right? But what if she thought that Carmilla was avoiding her? She rolled her eyes internally. She _was_ avoiding her. Just. Not because she was too talkative or anything. Just because the thought of leaving the house was appalling. And socialising with anyone was even worse. Mostly she just wanted to sleep. She checked the time. Eleven thirty eight. She blew out a long sigh, and began the laborious process of getting out of bed.

She arrived exactly twenty-three minutes late, wearing the least dirty clothes she could find, with coffee. Laura was facing away from her, shifting her weight from foot to foot, on the street corner they'd promised to meet at, so Carmilla slunk up behind her, and leaned in close.

“Morning, sunshine.”

She had to yank her head back as Laura jumped, whipping her head around with a look that varied between terror and outrage.

“Holy... Hogwarts, Carm. You scared the crap out of me. Don't _do_ that!”

“What?” Carmilla asked innocently, raising one eyebrow.

“I have _anxiety_. You can't just go around scaring people with anxiety.”

“Why not, when it's so much fun?” She allowed herself a small smirk. Laura stared at her for a second, flabbergasted.

“You're an asshole.” It didn't sound like it had much bite though, and that might have been the hint of a smile, so Carmilla just shrugged.

“So I've been told. I brought coffee.”

“Um, thanks. That's really sweet. I... thanks.” Laura gingerly took the cup out of Carmilla's hand and had a small sip. “You know it's not morning, anymore, right?”

“Depends on what time you woke up.”

“Eight! Oh, that wasn't a question. Why, what time did you wake up?”

“Late,” Carmilla replied, taking a generous gulp of her coffee. A small bit of guilt jabbed at her, ( _you made her wait for you. Why couldn't you have just gotten out of bed? Useless.)_ but she shoved it down. “So, where's this burger place?”

“It's just up the street. I promise you, it'll be the best burger you've ever had. Plus the restaurant is super cute; it's all done up like a fifties diner.”

“Never would have pegged you for a hipster, cupcake.”

“I am _not_ ,” Laura gasped in mock outrage, “a _hipster_.”

“You cuff your jeans.” Carmilla pointed, and Laura looked down a little self-consciously. There was that guilt again. Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut? _Idiot._ “It's cute, cupcake. It suits you. I'm just teasing.”

“Um, yeah. Well.” Laura fidgeted. “Sorry. I'm a little nervous.”

“I... shouldn't tease you. That's not fair.” It almost physically pained her to say it, but Laura perked up a little.

“It's okay. I know you're just trying to act normal. Not that you aren't normal it's just...” She paused for a second and took a deep breath, and when she resumed her words were very deliberate. “You're not treating me like I'm broken, and I appreciate that. Sometimes my brain gets a little carried away, is all.” She split into a huge grin. “I didn't ramble.”

“No, you didn't.” Carmilla offered her fist, and Laura bumped her knuckles against it eagerly. “Good job, cupcake.” _Patronising, condescending, useless idiot_ , she added to her mental list.

“Thanks. So, lunch?”

“Lead the way.”

The diner _was_ cute. A little overbearingly cute, in fact, in a way that irritated Carmilla for reasons she didn't really care to dissect. Laura was looking a little jittery, breathing in very slowly through her nose and watching the countertop intently.

“So, what did you get up to yesterday after the meet-up?” Carmilla asked. _What a fucking bland question. Might as well have asked what her favourite colour was._ It didn't seem to matter, though, because Laura lifted her head, and stopped bouncing her knee like she was doing a one-legged marathon.

“I had Krav Maga class in the afternoon, so I went to that pretty much right after the park, and then made dinner for me and my dad. Stuffed portobello mushrooms. The internet has some surprisingly good recipes... and some surprisingly bad ones. But they turned out good, anyways.” She fished her phone out of her pocket, an anceint flip phone that looked like it belonged in a museum. She saw Carmilla eyeing it and flushed a little. “Don't judge. My dad thought I'd use an iPhone to send high-resolution selfies to potential stalkers.” She tapped around for a little bit, and then passed the phone over the table. Low-resolution or not, the stuffed mushrooms did look good.

“What's in them?”

“Mostly cheese, and then scallops and shrimp, green onions, garlic and mashed turnip. Don't wrinkle your nose, they were really good.”

“Turnip?”

“I did say mostly cheese, right?”

“Hey!” Two waters plonked down on the table. “Can I get you ladies a drink to start?”

“Water's good, thanks,” Laura looked up, and her mouth popped open into a little 'o'. “Kirsch?”

“Hey, little Laura! What's shakin'?”

“Um, nothing! Nothing at all! How about you?” The knee started bouncing again.

“Just school, mostly – lit class just isn't the same without you, you know. Danny's been asking after you, too. We should all get together sometime, go to the arcade or something!”

“Yeah, totally!” Laura's voice rose an octave, into the range of hearing normally reserved for dog whisltes. “We should totally do that!”

“Cool! We should make plans while you're here! Not right now, but, like, before you leave. Drink for you, sexy lady?” It took Carmilla a second to realize that he meant her.

“Uh, Coke.”

“Cool, one Coke coming right up!”

Laura was studying the table again, and tapping her fingers on the tabletop.

“Hey, cupcake, are you okay?”

“Hm? What?”

“Are you okay? You're a little twitchy.”

“Nope! No twitching here,” she laughed nervously, forcing her leg still. “Just. He was part of my friend group at school, and I kind of left without telling them anything. Like, had a nervous breakdown and had to drop a bunch of classes left. And then didn't answer any of their text messages, even though some of them were very insistent on texting me. A lot. And now they probably hate me.”

Carmilla chewed that over for a minute, trying to figure out what to say while Laura started breathing evenly through her nose again. She still hadn't come up with anything by the time her Coke showed up.

“So, what kind of dead animals can I bring for you?” Kirsch asked, grinning down at them.

Carmilla just pointed at the first thing she saw on the menu, and Laura gibbered a little bit before managing to order the salmon burger. And then, again, with the knee.

“Cupcake.” The entire table was rattling with the force of her fidgeting, but Laura looked like she was a million miles away. “Cupcake? Laura?” Carmilla waved her hand in front of her face, and Laura jumped in her seat.

“What?”

“You're causing an earthquake.”

“What?”

Carmilla pointed at her knee, and Laura stared at it as though it were a completely foreign object.

“Um. Sorry.” She didn't stop.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Um, yes. No. I'm having a panic attack.”

“A... seriously?”

“Yep!” She laughed, a strained, breathless laugh. “Right here! In the restaurant.”

Carmilla chewed on her lip for a second before coming to a decision.

“We can leave.”

“We just ordered food, we can't leave!” Laura squeaked.

“We can leave.” Carmilla stood up, grabbing one of Laura's hands as she did. “I'll get them packed up to go.”

“We have to pay...”

“I'll pay. Go stand outside.”

“You can't pay for me...”

“I can. Go.”

Laura gave her a look of grateful confusion before turning and nearly sprinting to the door. It took a minute, but Carmilla managed to flag down the beefcake that had been serving them.

“Hey, brotato. Can we get those burgers packed up?”

“Are you guys not staying?” He looked genunely disappointed, and she felt a little rush of pity for him.

“Laura's... not feeling super well.” Understatement.

“Dude, that sucks. Yeah, I'll grab them for you. One sec.”

She glanced outside to where Laura was hunched under a tree, hands over her face, and willed him to hurry the fuck up. She paid hastily, grabbed their food, and tried not to look like she was fleeing the scene of a crime as she stuffed her sunglasses onto her face.

Laura was breathing short, shallow gasps into her hands by the time Carmilla got to her, standing on the sidewalk out of the way of pedestrians. Not that that stopped them from staring at her. Carmilla flipped a couple of them off as she set her hand on Laura's shoulder. The girl squeaked, but didn't push her away, so she awkwardly left her hand there while she tried to think of something useful to say.

“I'm really sorry. I don't normally get this bad, but then, I don't normally drink coffee either. Caffeine ramps up my anxiety. Also, I don't normally see school maybe-friends who I haven't spoken to in three months. And none of this normally happens while I'm out with... I mean... like... oh my god, shut up, Laura.” All of this would have been spectacularly funny, if it wasn't for the fact that she was now having a full-blown panic attack on a street corner.

“You should have told me. About the coffee.” _Why didn't you think of that? Of course caffeine would aggrivate anxiety. Idiot._

“But you bought it for me, and that was really nice of you. I know it's hard enough to worry about taking care of yourself when you have depression, never mind trying to take care of someone else and I just...”

“I wouldn't have been offended,” Carmilla tried, quietly. _Liar. You'd have thought it was a brush-off, like you fucking deserve._ “No need to risk it.”

“I get them all the time. Just not usually this bad. I'm pretty good at coping. Usually.”

“Can I do anything?” _You've already done enough, you fucking moron._

“Just... stand here with me. This is great. You're listening. That's great. You rubbing my shoulder is good. Being outside is good. It's just going to take me a few minutes.”

She kept it up, rubbing small circles onto Laura's shoulder, until the gasping stopped and she started to breathe normally again. And then kept it up until Laura lifted her face out of her hands. And then finally stopped when Laura gave her a shaky, apologetic smile.

“Could you... maybe walk with me to my house? It's... maybe a twenty minute walk from here. The exercise might help a little. And your company is really nice. You're really... quiet. And calm, I guess? It's helping.”

“Okay.”

They walked mostly in silence, Laura breathing in steadily through her nose while Carmilla mentally kicked herself until she'd run out of rocks to hurl at her self-esteem. Why she had ever thought this was a good idea was beyond her. She was contrary, angry, self-obsessed and rude, and it wasn't a surprise she was part of the problem. She should have just stayed home. She should have never signed up for this stupid program, or gone to the stupid counsellor, or let Mattie rope her into leaving her stupid apartment, or poured those fucking pills into the toilet when she'd lost her nerve...

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She looked up, then down again. Laura was watching her, hard, like she could read her mind.

“They're not worth that. Save it for your dream house, cutie,” she managed a smirk, hunching farther into herself.

“You're just really, really quiet. Quieter than normal. And smaller than normal. This... this isn't your fault, you know. My brain just does this. Like your brain just tells you that everything is your fault. But you don't have to believe it.”

“Says the girl who just lost her shit over seeing a 'friend' in public.” It came out harder and angrier than she'd intended it, and she could see the hurt on Laura's face, even out of the corner of her eye.

“Hey. That's not fair.”

She knew it wasn't, but her mouth was on a roll before she could stop it.

“Maybe if you spent more time dealing with your own shit instead of poking your nose into other people's, they might even decide to stick around. God knows you could use more people to talk to.”

Laura's mouth opened and closed a couple times, and then her face hardened into a glare.

“Well, maybe if you took other peoples' feelings into account instead of trying to be all cool and whatever, you wouldn't only have your sister to rely on to force you to get help when you obviously need it.”

“You think you can hurt my feelings? I've been saying worse shit to myself for years. You'll have to work a lot harder than that, creampuff.”

“You know, you really are a condescending asshole.”

“And you're a naive child.”

“Whatever. Go back to your apartment and be miserable for all I care.”

“Fine.”

Carmilla shoved the burgers into Laura's hands, turned on her heel and walked across the street, flipping off the honking car that nearly ran her over as she went. She didn't need to look to see Laura's crushed face to know it was there; but it was better this way. Better she knows sooner, rather than later, how much everything she touched turned to shit. Queen Midas, ruler of shitland.

She didn't even register getting to her apartment until she flung herself onto her bed, exhausted and angry, mind chewing her up and spitting her out until she fell into a worn-out, miserable sleep.

 

Cupcake 10:32 PM: I'm sorry, Carm. I shouldn't have said those things at you.

Cupcake 10:32 PM: I know it's not really your fault.

Cupcake 10:35 PM: For the record I don't think you're a condescending asshole.

Cupcake 10:36 PM: I say some pretty awful things when I'm hurt too. Today being a prime example of that.

Cupcake 10:41 PM: Just text me to tell me you're ok

Cupcake 8:12 AM: Carm, I'm starting to get really worried about you. Could you just let me know if you're alright?

Missed Call: Cupcake 8:49 AM

Missed Call: Cupcake 8:54 AM

Cupcake 9:01 AM: Carm, I swear to god if you don't text me in the next half hour, I will seriously call the cops.

Cupcake 9:32 AM: I'm really sorry

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 of who knows? Comments are very much appreciated :)


	3. Only half the worst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: passing references to suicide. As always, comments are very much appreciated!

Carmilla awoke to heavy boots in her kitchen.

She had just enough presence of mind to wonder what the fuck was going on when she heard Mattie's strained voice.

“Carmilla?”

She croaked out a half-response and lifted her head off her pillow. Her feet felt heavy; she'd slept in her boots again. Not the worst surprise. No, the worst surprise was two EMT's and her sister bursting into her room at the ungodly hour of... she didn't even have time to check her phone before Mattie was scooping her up into a hug. The paramedics were there, asking if she was okay, if they were allowed to touch her. She gave them a half-intelligable grunt in response, which they interpreted as permission, but they'd pretty much already figured out she was okay. They checked her pupils and had her sit up anyways, taken her blood pressure, and timed her pulse, asked her a few questions. Had she taken anything? Was she planning to take anything? Could she show them her wrists? As if she'd slit her wrists. No, there were plenty of other major arteries that would bleed out faster and were harder to tourniquet. By the time they'd left, she was unfortunately very awake, and Mattie's panic had subsided to mild annoyance. She'd pressed a cup of coffee into Carmilla's hands anyways, and Carmila had given her a grateful glance.

“You little monster. You had me worried absolutely sick. I got a call this moring, you know, from the co-ordinator of that Buddy Program, saying your Buddy had called in. The one you called a naive child?” Carmilla winced at that; but she shouldn't have said it out loud if she hadn't wanted it heard, and news travels these days. Especially with Laura's motormouth, it seemed. “Apparently she's not as naive as you thought, because when you failed to text her or answer her calls, she thought you might have... done something.” Mattie arched her eyebrow, and Carmilla mimicked it back at her.

“Well, as you can see, I haven't. You can leave, now.”

“You know, the purpose of peer counselling is to actually discuss your problems.”

“And that worked out real fucking swell for me.”

“Ah-huh. That might have more to do with your reticence than the program's failings.”

If it wasn't so utterly predictable, Carmilla might have laughed. Yeah, this was her fault, too. Put another chalk line under the mountain of chalk lines that added up to her useless fucking life. Mattie sank down onto the bed next to her, her hand hovering for a moment before she put it on Carmilla's knee.

“I know this can't be easy for you, but you won't do medication, you hate counsellors, and I'm worried about you. And so is mother, though I know she... doesn't show it well.” There was a pause, and Mattie took her hand back quickly, as though she'd been unaware of its behaviour. “Just please; please try. For me. Because I don't know what I'd do without you.”

_You'd get on just fine without me._ She didn't say it out loud, but she did take a sip of her coffee, which must have been an encouraging sign, because some of the tension left Mattie's shoulders. She didn't get up, or leave, much to Carmilla's annoyance, but she didn't talk any more either. Just sat quietly and let Carmilla do the same, and after a while, it felt less strained.

“Well,” Mattie finally said, finishing her coffee and standing up. “Unfortunately I have to go; the Board waits for no one, not even the CEO.” She held out her hand for Carmilla's mug, and took them both into the kitchen while Carmilla trailed behind her, still in her boots. “Promise me, Kitty-Cat, that if you need anything you'll call.”

“Sure.”

Mattie sighed, but didn't bother to correct her. She pulled on her shoes, and went in for a hug, which, at least that hadn't changed. “Next time I see you, I want it to be at a bar over drinks. No more of these mid-morning crises. Deal?”

“Deal.” Carmilla watched her go, almost until she was out the door. “Mattie?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, darling.” And then she was gone.

Carmilla crumpled where she stood, letting her butt hit the floor, and put her forehead on her knees while she blew a long, laborious sigh.

Fucking family.

 

She texted Laura at her earliest convenience. Nevermind that her earliest convenience was after three days of stewing in her room with the blinds drawn. She'd managed to get her boots off in that time; small victories. Her text message log was enormous, mostly variations on 'I'm sorry', but also a few 'you could at least text me back's, and one 'you asshole, I'm still not convinced you're even alive'. She typed out a quick message, and then made the spontaneous decision that she should have a shower. She managed to keep up enough energy to get all the way through it, and then dragged herself back into her bedroom with all the grace of a limbless sloth, and collapsed back onto the bed.

 

Carmilla 1:16 PM: I'm alive

Cupcake 1:17 PM: I HAVE BEEN WORRIED ABOUT YOU

Cupcake 1:17 PM: I HAVEN'T SLEPT IN THREE DAYS

Cupcake 1:17 PM: I THOUGHT YOU'D KILLED YOURSELF

 

Carmilla sighed.

 

Carmilla 1:34 PM: I'm not that dramatic, sweetheart

Carmilla 1:35 PM: Besides, then who would annoy you?

Cupcake 1:36 PM: I think you could manage that from beyond the grave

 

A little burble of a chuckle made its way out of her chest, but it was more an automatic response than anything else. Now she had even more reasons to feel guilty. She could have texted Laura back three days ago, she could have texted her back that night, she could have... whatever. It was done. And not like Laura wouldn't have gotten over it even if she never texted her back; they barely knew each other.

 

Cupcake 1:47 PM: Are you doing anything today?

Carmilla 1:53 PM: What do you think

Cupcake 1:54 PM: Is that a no? Because I make some mean pancakes

Cupcake 1:54 PM: I could come over to your place

Cupcake 1:55 PM: So you wouldn't have to leave. Or get dressed.

Cupcake 1:56 PM: I mean, in real clothes, not like, pyjama clothes

Cupcake 1:56 PM: I would prefer it if you were in pyjama clothes, as opposed to nothing

Cupcake 1:57 PM: Not that you're not gorgeous or anything, just

Carmilla 1:57 PM: Will it stop you from text-rambling at me

Cupcake 1:58 PM: Yes?

Carmilla 2:03 PM: Fine you can come over

 

She typed out her address and hit send, and then tossed her phone down next to her on the bed. She should probably actually put some clothes on.

 

She'd managed half of that task by the time Laura made it to the apartment. Pants, at least. She had pants on. Almost all of her clothes were dirty. When had she last done laundry? The task seemed monumental now, with piles of it in just about every corner of her place, and her place wasn't exactly super small. She even had an in-suite washer, but she couldn't bring herself to drag her shit the two feet she needed to. Did she even have detergent? The intercom buzzed at her, and she sighed.

“Hello?”

“Hi Carm! Um, it's Laura. I'm downstairs.”

Carmilla pushed the buzzer to let her in before she could say anything else, and trudged back to her room. There had to be a t-shirt somewhere that she'd only worn once, or something. She grabbed the first thing she saw, did the smell check, and decided it was good enough, just in time for Laura to knock on her door. She dragged herself over to answer it.

“Wow, your apartment building is really nice! And your apartment is so cute! You must pay a fortune in rent.” There were two canvas grocery bags in Laura's hands, full of stuff. Carmilla stepped aside so Laura could get into the apartment, and shut the door behind her. “I wasn't sure what you had, so I just brought everything we need, I hope that's okay. I didn't know if you had any allergies, and you didn't answer my texts, so I just got chocolate chips and bananas. You aren't allergic to chocolate or bananas are you?”

“Nope.”

“Awesome.”

If she noticed the mess, Laura didn't let on, deftly clearing a space on the counter for her bags. There was even a frying pan in there, which was good, because Carmilla was pretty sure her own pan was host to an alien organism at this point. She watched a little awkwardly while Laura dug around and pulled things out of the bags and then stared bemusedly at the lack of counter space.

“I think I'm going to have to do some of your dishes.”

“There's... there's a dishwasher,” Carmilla muttered guiltily, staring hard at the floor.

“Even better!” Things went back in the bags, and then Laura was doing her dishes. The dishes that she had left for god knows how long and....

“Stop.” It came out a lot louder than she intended it to, but Laura did, giving her a look that was bordering on heartbreaking. “Just... what are you doing here? In my kitchen. Doing my dishes. Making me... god, making me fucking pancakes.”

“What do you mean?” Laura asked tentatively, holding one hand toward Carmilla as though she were a frightened animal that might bolt. Carmilla regarded it offendedly until Laura dropped it.

“I mean, I'm not... I'm not even nice to you. You hardly even know me. I treated you like dirt and then didn't text you for three days.”

“Four, if you count the rest of saturday.”

“Four. God. Why..? Just why?”

“I'm making it up to you.”

“Making what up to me?”

“I invited you out for lunch and then had a panic attack and sent you into a depression spiral. Kind of my fault. I'm making it up to you.” The words were short, clipped, and there was an edge to them that made Carmilla nervous.

“Okay, first, just. Stop.” She put her hands to her face, digging her fingers into her eyes. This was so fucked up. “You having a panic attack was not your fault. You didn't send me into anything, I just feel like this. All the time. Every day. Except the days where I feel monumentally bored. So, that's not your fault. And yeah, you're headstrong, and loud, and you say things without thinking... but unless you're actively drugging me to make me feel like shit, then you haven't done anything wrong.”

Laura stared at her for a second and then a small smile began on her face.

“See? This is what I'm telling you. It's not your fault, either. And I _am_ making it up to you. We had a bad day, and you deserve some good ones, whether or not you texted me. That's not your fault either, you know. I've been researching.” She paused, holding a plate that might have had a fuzzy animal living on it. “Plus, I think that's the most you've ever said to me at once. So, I must be doing something right.”

Carmilla gaped at her, while she cheerily resumed stacking dishes into her dishwasher, and then cast around with a concerned look.

“Where's your dish soap?”

“Um... under the sink.”

“Thanks!”

“Um. Can I... look, can I help?”

“Nah! I have some nervous energy to burn off, to be honest, and I like cooking. You can follow a set of instructions and have something perfect turn out at the end that makes people happy. It's kind of soothing. And there! Now your dishes are done.” She turned and wrinked her nose at the state of the rest of Carmilla's apartment. “The next task'll be the laundry, I guess.”

“You... really don't have to do that.”

“Nope! So, why don't you do some while I make pancakes?” She grinned. “Just one load, the things you want the most. It'll be a start. Deal?”

“Uh. Deal.”

Carmilla stared at her for a moment longer, while she started humming to herself, and then turned on her heel to sort through her laundry. She managed enough for a full load, dumped it in, and started the machine up, staring bemusedly at her hands as she did it. She felt half like she was watching herself go about doing normal tasks without her participation; none of Mattie's business-like insistence or her mother's berating had managed to get her to do her laundry, but here she was, cleaning up after herself at the behest of a girl who was now full-blown singing Taylor Swift in her kitchen. This had to be some kind of fever-dream.

“Pancakes are gonna take a little while longer; did you want to sit down somewhere?”

“Um.” She dragged a chair out from the table nearer to the stove and sat down. Laura turned her head with a grin. “So. Um. How was your day?”

“Good! I woke up to the neighbour's dog barking again, though. I swear they don't even care, which, not great. Not that I think they should care because he's waking me up. I mean, they don't seem to care about _him_ all that much. He just sort of runs wild in the back yard and they feed him now and again. I don't think he gets a lot of love. Sometimes I pet him through the fence, but I'm not really sure it does much. He's kind of old at this point, and used to being alone, but. Anyway. My dad worked today so I just made myself hot chocolate and did some yoga and cleaned my room, but it was already pretty clean...”

Carmilla nodded along, making agreeable noises whenever she thought she should, and after a while it felt less like being forcibly talked at, and more like she was participating. Laura didn't ask her about her day, which was kind of a relief, but they ended up talking about tv, and half way through the conversation Carmilla realized this was probably the most she'd talked to anyone in months.

It was kind of nice.

 

Cupcake 8:32 PM: Hey, Carm! It was really good to see you today. Sorry I burnt one of your pancakes :/ I just needed both hands for storytelling.

Carmilla 8:37 PM: It's fine, poptart. The pancakes were good

Carmilla 8:43 PM: I'm sorry I'm not a great conversationalist

Cupcake 8:45 PM: No, you totally are! I'm sorry I rambled at you so much

Cupcake 8:45 PM: Thanks for listening to me :)

Cupcake 8:46 PM: I hope I wasn't too annoying

Carmilla 8:48 PM: You weren't annoying at all. It was nice to see you too

Cupcake 8:49 PM: :)

Cupcake 8:49 PM: We should do it again sometime

Carmilla 8:50 PM: I think I'd like that

Cupcake 8:51 PM: Night, Carm!

Carmilla 8:55 PM: Night

 


	4. By far the worst idea

Carmilla was nervous. Actually fucking nervous.

_Relax, moron. It's just dinner. It's not a date._

Was it a date? Jesus, she had no idea. The last time she'd dated... well, nevermind that. But dinner. That was ambiguous. Did she assume it was a date? Or should she just assume it was friend-dinner? Friend-dinner. That was safer. She didn't even know what Laura's sexuality was. She hadn't asked. She had suspicions, but they were unconfirmed. But what do you fucking wear to friend-dinner?

“Keep it together, dumbass,” she grumbled at herself. _Just throw some clothes on and go_. There were even clean ones, and she'd showered, so that was good enough. Right? “Fuck it.”

She grabbed her two nearest items of clothing and pulled them on, and it wasn't until she was three blocks down that she realised she was wearing her leather pants. _Super not non-date appropriate. Way to fucking go._ She rolled her eyes at herself, stomping through a half-dried puddle and splashing an old lady who huffed at her indignantly. She hunched farther into herself and sped up, willing herself to be invisible.

She was on time to the restaurant, at least, so that was a minor accomplishment. She looked around while she waited behind a couple arguing with a waitress at the front table, and spotted the back of Laura's neck. Her hair was up. She was wearing some kind of white flouncy top.

Shit. This was a date.

She slouched over to the table and got into her seat, completely ignoring the waitstaff. Laura looked up and gave her a nervous grin. Her knee was going ten miles a minute. Yep. Date. Fuck. Or maybe it was just that Laura was out in public. That made her nervous. Yeah, probably that. No need to get worked up over her very, very off-the-shoulder shirt.

“Hey Carm. You look... wow.” She started giggling, struggling to hide it behind her hand.

“What?”

“Your shirt's on inside out.”

Carmilla looked down and groaned. Of course it was. Without even glancing around, she yanked it off, turned it right side out, and put it back on. Laura's giggling turned into full-blown hysterical laughter, causing half the customers to turn their heads and stare. Carmilla sneered at them.

“Oh my god, Carm, you just flashed the whole restaurant.”

“No one was looking.”

“Yeah, lucky for you, otherwise they'd have kicked us out and we'd be having McDonalds for dinner,” Laura wiped at her eyes, giggles tapering off into occasional snickers. “I can't believe you just did that.”

“Great thing about being depressed, sweetheart; I actually don't give a shit about most things.” Carmilla rolled her eyes. “Including whether or not the assholes in this restaurant saw my bra.” That sent her into a whole new bout of hysterics, and Carmilla felt the corners of her mouth twitch up. She was chuckling along with her by the time the waitress came around to take their drink orders. Carmilla ordered a whisky on ice, and Laura just waved her hand in the direction of her mostly empty glass.

“I'll just have another one of those.”

“How long have you been waiting?”

“Only... um... fifteen minutes or so,” she said vaguely, ears turning red. “I may have been a little nervous, so... I ordered a drink. Or two.”

“Self medicating, cupcake?”

“Uhmm, a little,” Laura giggled, hiding behind her hands. “I don't drink often, but... it's kind of nice, sometimes, not to be worried about everything.”

“I can get behind that,” Carmilla agreed, smirking a little. Laura's attitude was infectious, easing the knot of stress she'd been carrying since she left the house, and the whisky, when it arrived, helped.

“Thanks for coming out to dinner with me, Carm,” Laura started, sipping her drink tentatively. “My dad was supposed to take me out for dinner tonight, for... reasons. But he ended up working the late shift, and I just...”

And there it was. Good mood evaporated. So long.

“So, I'm just a handy replacement, then?” She heard herself asking icily.

“No! Oh, god, I'm making a total mess of this. Um, can I start over?”

“By all means.” Carmilla gulped down the rest of her whisky, hunching over her glass. Whatever the explanation was, it had better be damn good. _Not like you're worth anything to anyone anyway_ , she reminded herself. _No one voluntarily hangs out with you. Not even your sister_.

“I've been thinking a lot lately. Um, about you. And you never seem to leave your apartment, which sounds lonely. Tonight's kind of... an anniversary for me and my dad, where we always spend the day together, to remind each other that at least we have each other, I guess. Through everything. And all I could think about all morning was that you were by yourself, in your apartment, with no one there.” She took a deep breath, resolutely avoiding Carmilla's face. “And I know I talk too much, and I annoy you, and sometimes you give me that look like you're amazed I've even made it to adulthood, but you're funny, and kind, and you listen to me, and text me at like one in the morning, so when my dad said he had to cover a shift, you were the first person I thought of. If there's anyone I'd want to spend dinner with, trying to remind myself that there's good in the world, it's you.”

Carmilla felt like she might be literally speechless, half frozen in fear and confusion, hands clutched tightly around her glass. She knew Laura liked her well enough; they'd been actually talking the last couple weeks, and more than once she'd come over to Carmilla's apartment and helped her get up enough energy to do her laundry and her dishes, and then stayed to watch netflix, even, but half of her had always suspected it was out of pity, or maybe because no one else would listen to Laura for more than five minutes without losing their patience.

“Um, Carm? You're, ah... you're freaking me out a little,” Laura sounded tiny and far away, and when Carmilla looked up, her eyes were huge and worried.

“Uh,” Carmilla started, and her voice sounded rougher than she'd expected. She cleared her throat and tried again. “That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.” She tried to play it off with a smirk, but Laura knew better, and reached over to grab her hand.

“Well, it's true. It just felt wrong, you being lonely and sad in your apartment, when you've made my life a hundred times brighter. So, I figured the least I could do is try to remind you that you're important to me. And my stupid mouth screwed that up in the first ten minutes.” She dropped her forehead to the table with a groan. “I don't know how you put up with me.”

“I don't.” Laura lifted her head blearily off the table with a scandalized look on her face. “It might surprise you to learn this, but I actually like you; I don't just tolerate you.” She snatched her hand back from Laura quickly, as though burned, and pulled her menu up in front of her face to try and hide behind.

“I'm sorry, what? I don't think I heard that correctly.”

“Well, I'm not going to say it again.”

Laura put her fingers on the top of the menu and pulled it down to look Carmilla in the face. She looked like she was going to say something, her ears flushed red, and then she just grinned crookedly.

“Get the fettucine. It's actually really good.”

 

“..And I am seriously wondering if anyone actually thinks things like that. Do they? I know some conservatives have some pretty unusual views, but alien intervention and magic underpants is kind of extreme, even for them.”

“How the hell do you know so much about Mormons?” Carmilla asked, laughing.

“Ummmm... I kind of pretended that I wanted to join the church to a girl I knew from one of my classes? It was pretty easy to get her to spill the beans.”

“Oh god, I can't even imagine you as a Mormon. You know you'd have to give up caffeine, right?”

“Pretended! It was pretending! Also, they'd make me marry a dude, which...” Laura shuddered, and stuck out her tongue. “Not that... I mean, if people want to do that, that's cool with me, I'd just... I don't bat for that team?”

“ _Bat for that team._ Cupcake. Sports references? Your well of metaphors is running a little dry.”

“It's not a metaphor, it's a... um... I don't know. But I know it's not a metaphor! Besides, it's more obvious than saying I own twelve cats. Which I don't.”

“You could just say, 'hey, I'm gay'.”

“That's so... I can't do that. How do you even do that?”

“Easy; watch.” Carmilla put her hands flat on the table and looked Laura in the eye. “Laura, I'm gay. There, no thinly-veiled euphemisms.” Never mind the fact that her heart was pounding a mile a minute, and her brain was back on the question of whether or not this was a date. Was it?

“Euphemism! That was the word I was looking for.”

“You're precious.”

“Ass.”

“True.”

Laura giggled. “Finish your drink, so we can go.”

“Trying to get away from me, are you?”

“No, silly. I was thinking we could go for a walk. Drunk-walk. A wander. It's so warm out, and neither of us have anywhere to be... unless you do! Sorry, I shouldn't assume, that's... I mean...”

“I don't have anywhere to be; and even if I did, I don't have anywhere I'd _rather_ be.”

“You're such a sap.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. Big softie.”

Carmilla downed the rest of her drink while Laura emptied the remainder of her wallet onto the table for tip. Carmilla let her; they'd fought enough over the bill, and Carmilla had won that one. Laura was already half way out the door by the time she set her glass down, so she grabbed her wallet and phone off the table and chased after her, ignoring the flutter in her stomach. _Not the time, Karnstein._

Laura had been right; it was warm out. Gorgeously warm, with the sun just thinking about setting, and the crackle of small bugs in the air. The girl herself was standing on the sidewalk, face tilted to catch the twilight, eyes closed, and Carmilla swallowed hard. Every eyelash, every hair on her head, was highlighted with gold, her skin practically glowing, and Carmilla had the absurd thought that she looked like a lion, majestic and proud and lethal.

Jesus, she was properly screwed.

“So, where to, princess?” She asked, trying to deflect from her current emotional state.

“We could walk over to that park, near 12th? It's usually pretty quiet.”

“Sure, cutie.”

They didn't talk on the way over, or even when they got there. The park was quiet – too late in the day for young families, to early for the bars to be out. Laura plopped herself onto a swing, and Carmilla leaned next to her on the frame. Some kind of shift happened, in the air, and suddenly this whole thing felt awkward and tense; or maybe that was just Carmilla, fidgeting in her boots, trying to figure out what she was doing with all of this. She glanced over at Laura, and was at least glad to see that she wasn't the only one. Laura was absently winding a loose strand of her hair around her finger and resolutely not meeting Carmilla's eyes.

“Thanks... thanks for coming out with me, Carm, I really...”

And it was stupid, and impulsive and Laura was half way through a sentence, but she felt like if she didn't just do it she would lose her nerve forever, so Carmilla just leaned down. Laura turned her head to look up, and Carmilla grabbed hold of the swing chain in one hand and the softness of Laura's jaw in the other and kissed her.

Laura jerked backward, half falling out of the swing and onto the ground, legs tangled up in the chain and the seat, scrambling in the sand. Something in the pit of Carmilla's stomach bottomed out, and hot shame squeezed her heart.

“Laura, I...” her throat closed around her words and she shut her mouth with a snap.

“I... I-I can't, Carm... I'm... I,” she squeaked. _Fuck, fuck, fuck..._ “I have to...” She jumped up, eyes wild like some caged animal, breath coming in short, delirious pants.

“Wait, I...”

“I have to go.” She turned on her heel suddenly and bolted, running headlong into the gathering gloom, while Carmilla stood, shell-shocked, calling her name.

 

Carmilla 7:46 PM: Laura, I'm sorry

Carmilla 7:47 PM: I should have asked

Carmilla 7:48 PM: Please tell me I can make it up to you

Carmilla 8:20 PM: God, Laura, I'm so sorry

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little time jump here, so hopefully it wasn't too confusing. As always, comments and concerns are much appreciated!


	5. Better ideas

After a week of listless napping and avoiding her phone, Carmilla finally broke down. Mattie showed up faster than usual, even for her, and took in Carmilla's dishevelled state without even a snide remark, which had to say something. Probably something bad. Probably because Carmilla looked beyond even the usual sisterly teasing. She felt like she was beyond it. She felt like she was living in static, eating by rote, sleeping because there was nothing else to do. She felt like she was looking down a long tunnel at her life, and wondering more and more if she had the willpower to walk there.

Mattie drove her to the doctor's office, and Carmilla listened to her speech again about SSRI's and the kind of thing she could expect from them; it would get worse before it got better, they wouldn't do anything if there was no chemical imbalance in her brain, she was to take them every day regardless of whether or not she felt like she needed to, she was to call if she felt like hurting herself, or go to the emergency room. She nodded along dutifully, her head bobbing on the end of her neck like it was on a spring. Her perscription was painfully expensive, even with health insurance, but it only really mattered on principle. She just hated parting with it. Probably an automatic response ingrained in her by her mother. The thought made her feel like retching.

Mattie waited quietly with her for the half hour it took for her perscription to be ready, even though she probably had better places to be, and Carmilla had never been more grateful to her. She couldn't muster up the energy to tell her, but when Mattie dropped her off at home, made her a coffee and watched her take her meds, she muttered a quiet 'thanks' at her, and the look her sister gave her made her feel like maybe Mattie understood. It had always been hard for her to ask for help, even when they were kids, and it was even harder now. The only reason she'd done it was because she'd found herself looking out the window at the bridge over the inlet and wondering how cold the water would be this time of year.

Mattie left her after she promised to call if anything went sideways, and she dumped herself on her couch and wondered if maybe she should watch some tv. Taking that singular pill had felt a little bit like rebellion; no, you may not have my brain, you may not have my life. It made her feel less like she was being dragged along on some fucking rollercoaster, and more like she was choosing to get off the damn rollercoaster and never ride the stupid thing again. It felt a little hopeful.

Taking her meds the next day was harder. She didn't feel worse, per se, but she didn't feel better; she knew that was to be expected, but she had used up what little motivation she had even just getting to the damn doctor in the first place. Mattie texted her to remind her. She didn't bother to reply.

It wasn't until half way through the second week that she just sat up in bed and decided she was going to have a shower. At nine in the morning. And then did her laundry. And then fuck it, she was going to leave the house and get some groceries and cook some goddamn lunch for herself like an adult. She decided on eggs and bacon because those were easy, and came home with five grocery bags full of things that looked like a good idea at the time, including some cookies that reminded her a little of Laura, and even that didn't hurt so much. Not that it didn't hurt, of course, but not in the same achingly empty, soul-destroying kind of way that she was used to. She nibbled them while her eggs were cooking, and then went and found her phone.

Laura hadn't texted her back in the last three weeks, but that wasn't a huge surprise. She was probably a combination of mortified and terrified, and Carmilla didn't really blame her. Tapping out a text was easier than she thought it would be, and some kind of giddiness settled into her brain. Was this how normal people felt? Did they just, you know, get up and do things? Even hard things? Without feeling like a useless waste of space? She had started giggling before she knew what was doing, and sank down into a corner of the kitchen and laughed until she was crying. She burned her eggs, but she didn't really care. They were good enough, and she'd made them herself, goddammit. Dishes went into the dishwasher, and her apartment was a little bit less of a mess, and even though she wasn't going to be going around and cleaning it out anytime soon, she still felt like she could take on half the world. And above all, she felt profoundly relieved, like she could breathe for the first time in years.

She took her cookies to the couch and started up netflix, deciding on some show she'd heard was good, and had never found enough interest in starting. She was half way through the third episode when her phone pinged, and she lunged at it, unceremoniously dumping half her cookies on the floor.

 

Carmilla 10:17 AM: Hey, cupcake. I know this is probably going to stress you out, and I'm really sorry for that, but I didn't want to leave things how they were. Obviously I misread the situation – I misread a lot of things. I'm really sorry for that. I didn't want to make you feel trapped or scared, and I should have asked first. I'm not mad, and I won't pull anything like that again, I promise. I kinda miss your rambling, so if you could give me a text whenever you feel like you can, I'd really like that.

Cupcake 12:22 PM: So, when you said 'Laura, I'm gay' in the restaurant, I guess you meant it, huh?

 

Carmilla laughed, so loud and clear that it surprised her, and she laughed again. _What a little shit_.

 

Carmilla 12:24 PM: Laura Hollis, of all the things you could have remembered, that had to be the one

Cupcake 12:25 PM: Well, you made quite an impression.

Cucpake 12:25 PM: NOT LIKE A GOOD ONE

Cupcake 12:26 PM: NO, I MEAN, NOT A BAD ONE

Cucpake 12:26 PM: OMG, just shoot me

Carmilla 12:27 PM: Why would I do that? And deprive myself of your singular company?

Cupcake 12:27 PM: I can't tell if that's an insult or a compliment, so

Cucpake 12:27 PM: Good job, I guess

Cupcake 12:28 PM: I was a little worried when I got your text

Cupcake 12:28 PM: Because there wasn't a single ounce of snark in it

Carmilla 12:29 PM: You are such a brat

Cupcake 12:29 PM: Yeah, but apparently you missed me

Carmilla 12:30 PM: I don't recall saying that. I recall saying I missed your rambling.

Cupcake 12:30 PM: Ah, there you are. I was worried you might have been pod-peopled.

Carmilla 12:31 PM: I'm hurt, cupcake. Am I not allowed to be nice to my favourite person?

Cupcake 12:31 PM: OHMYGOSH I am SO SORRY, I didn't even think

Cucpake 12:31 PM: I'm such a doofus sometimes

Cucpake 12:31 PM: I don't want to hurt your feelings

Carmilla 12:32 PM: Woah! It's ok, really, I was just teasing

Cupcake 12:33 PM: So... favourite person, huh?

 

Carmilla idly stirred her coffee, despite having stirred it pretty thoroughly already. She was pretty sure Laura's hot chocolate was cold by now; it had been sitting for thirteen minutes, which was very unlike her, and it was making Carmilla a little worried. Laura was never late.

There was a sudden commotion at the door, and Laura burst in, nearly tripping over someone in the process, eyes wild. She spotted Carmilla in the back, and waved; Carmilla waved back, struggling to stifle a grin and failing. What a disaster.

“Oh my god, Carm, I'm so sorry. There was construction happening along my bus route, and my phone died. I usually charge it at night, but I got distracted... um by the internet,” Laura's ears were bright red, as usual, and Carmilla had to try really hard not to laugh. “So I couldn't tell you I was going to be late. Thank you so much for waiting, I'm really, really sorry...”

“Hey, take a breath, cutie, it's ok,” Carmilla held up her hands with a grin. “I'm just glad you're here. I was afraid I was going to have to drink that hot chocolate all by myself.”

“Oh my god, you really didn't have to do that,” Laura stuttered, pointedly looking at the tabletop as she slid into the booth.

“I really did. I owe you, for, you know, being kind of a jackass.”

“You weren't a jackass,” Laura burst out, eyes darting up, and then she clamped a hand over her mouth as if surprised. “You weren't a jackass,” she said again, more quietly. “I just... I got... my brain... I...”

“Hey, don't worry about it, cutie. No need to explain. I'm sorry I scared you.” And she was; it ached a little, being around Laura again, knowing she'd been shot down, especially with Laura looking all summer tanned, and nervous, with her lip between her teeth... _jesus, Karnstein, focus_. But any Laura in her life was better than none, and she'd get over it. She hoped.

“Thanks,” Laura murmured, self-consciously squirming, pulling the mug into her hands. “I'm sorry I ran away from you. I just... didn't know what to do, and then I avoided you for like a month, which, I'm so sorry. I just... I didn't know where to start or what to say, and every day I put it off it got harder and harder to do anything...” Carmilla quietly sipped her coffee as Laura ran out of words, her eyes darting up and back down again. “Thanks for texting me. I'd never have done it. And as scary as it was, texting you back, I guess... all the things you said... at least you didn't blame me for it, or pretend like nothing was wrong. It made it easier. Plus, I missed you.”

“You missed me,” Carmilla deadpanned back, feigning shock. “I think this is the first time I've ever heard that come out of someone's mouth before.”

“Well, you've had crummy friends, then,” Laura replied, a small, nervous smile appearing on her face. There was a moment of quiet while Carmilla waited to see if she had anything else to say, but that seemed like it, so she took a deep breath, and tried very hard to carefully select her words.

“I can't pretend to know what the inside of that noggin looks like, Cupcake. It's all secrets and confusion to me. But I do know that I've never known someone as patient, as understanding, as determined as you before, and I've missed you more over the last little bit than I think I've ever missed anyone. I never wanted to jeopardize... this,” she stumbled over the words _our friendship_ , but set her jaw and powered through anyway, “and I feel like I've done you a huge disservice. I want to be part of the good in your life, and not some other hurdle you have to jump. So.” She shrugged lamely and ducked her head. “Hopefully I can do better this time around.”

“Well, you bought me hot chocolate,” Laura said, cracking a grin. “That's a start.”

“You little shit.”

“Yeah, but you lo... like. Me. Like me.”

“Can't imagine why,” Carmilla replied airily, resolutely ignoring her traitorous heart.

 

Cupcake 7:23 PM: Do you think, when we're extinct, geese will tell stories of fire-breathing dragons?

Cupcake 7:24 PM: Because airplanes

Carmilla 7:25 PM: I thought I was the one who was supposed to ask abstract philosophical questions

Cupcake 7:25 PM: Not that they strictly breathe fire, but they do roar, and the engines are hot

Cupcake 7:25 PM: You don't have a monopoly, you know

Carmilla 7:26 PM: In that case, no, I don't think so. Geese are profoundly, completely, impossibly stupid. I once saw one hissing at an empty tree.

Cupcake 7:27 PM: OMG are you serious

Carmilla 7:27 PM: Unfortunately, yes. Crows, on the other hand; them, I can see having stories of fire breathing dragons. Though, I think they have a fairly good idea of who and what pilots them.

Cupcake 7:27 PM: You're no fun when you get all sciencey

Carmilla 7:28 PM: Liar. You love it

Cupcake 7:29 PM: Yeah. Kinda true.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you happen to catch any spelling or grammar mistakes, please let me know. As always, comments are much appreciated!


	6. Bad idea management

Carmilla was plucking away at her bass for the first time in months – maybe even years – when her intercom buzzed at her. It was seriously only nine thirty in the morning. She might have been more annoyed, but she was up already, and even had half a cup of coffee in her, so she wandered over to the intercom and pushed the button. Laura's face showed up.

“Hey, cutie.”

“Um, hi. I know I should have texted first, maybe, but I kinda need a little help, and I was nearby, and I brought presents, so you're kind of obligated to let me in.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes to cover for the fact that she was trying not to grin, and pushed the button to let her up. She put her bass back on the stand and shut her amp off, and got to the door just in time to open it on Laura's startled face.

“You know, traditionally people say 'please' when they're asking to be let into someone's house uninvited.”

“Please?” Laura asked, face splitting into a wide grin. She held up a bottle. “I have whisky?”

Carmilla took the offering from her tentatively, her stomach turning over. She still hadn't gotten around to telling Laura that she'd started medication, and was absolutely not allowed to drink. It felt like an admission of weakness. _I can't handle my shit on my own, I need something to do it for me._ She turned away to avoid Laura spotting her guilty face.

“I was just walking, like, sort of nearby. Um, to clear my head. And I thought maybe you could help me with a problem I'm having.”

“Depends on the problem. I'm useless at math,” Carmilla deflected, putting the whisky on the counter. No, maybe she should put in in the cupboard. Less tempting. She hovered for a second, unsure if it would look rude if she did.

“Ha, ha, jerk,” Laura wrinked her nose, eyes casting around the kitchen. “Hey, it's kinda clean in here! Have you been tidying without me?”

“I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it may incriminate me. What's your problem?”

Laura fidgeted, and finally pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket.

“So... remember when we ran into that guy I knew? At the burger shop? It turns out he told a bunch of other people he ran into me, and that I wanted to get together with them. Which I do! Of course, but... Um. But they've been texting me for a couple days now, and I can't... I've managed to send them a couple back, but kind of... avoidance texts? I just... kinda want some advice, maybe? I don't know. Or just, sit here while I work up the courage.”

“Okay,” Carmilla went over toward the couch, picked up her bass and sat down with it, gesturing loosely next to her. Laura hesitated in the kitchen for a moment, and then followed, finding her usual place in the corner, legs tucked up so that her chin rested on her knees, shedding her shoes and coat on the way. Carmilla began plucking away, trying to find something to play, and settled on the bass line from Seven Nation Army, while Laura watched her.

“You're really good, you know.”

“I'm very, very out of practise.” Carmilla showed off her dented and raw fingertips, courtesey of this morning's attempts. “It's been a long time.”

“That's good, though, right? You're doing things you love, you're cleaning your kitchen... you've done laundry,” Laura observed, head tilting to the side with a puzzled expression. “Something must be going right for you.”

“Yeah. Uh, about that...”

Laura's phone went off shrilly, and she jumped half her height off the couch, eyeing it like it was a wild animal. She gave Carmilla a sideways glance, and she took a hand off her bass to give a half shrug; she was out of the hot seat for a minute, but nerves were settling in, now, and she could feel the creeping start of her usual avoidance tactics rearing their ugly heads. _Ah yes, my old friends Clamming Up, and Shutting Down_.

Laura tentatively picked up her phone, and brought the screen up. Her jaw flexed as she regarded it, and then she turned the screen toward Carmilla to consider.

 

Danny 8:45 PM: I know you're busy these days, but we haven't seen you in so long, and I've been kind of worried about you lol

 

Carmilla looked up for a second, lifting an eyebrow.

“He uses the word 'lol' unironically?”

“She. And yes. Don't judge her for that.”

“I make no promises.”

 

Danny 8:50 PM: I want to see for myself that you still have all your limbs attached

Laura 8:57 PM: Ahaha, I promise they're all attached. I'm kind of all over the place right now, so i don't know when I'll have free time

Danny 9:03 PM: You gotta have some free time, though, right? Like, an afternoon even. Kirsch was saying maybe arcade?

Danny 8:24 AM: Or bowling or something? C'mon, Hollis, bring your A game

Danny 8:27 AM: Or at least give us an ETA

Danny 8:32 AM: Should I call you? Would that be better?

Missed Call: Danny – 8:45 AM

Danny 8:50 AM: I guess not

Danny 9:00 AM: If this is you vanishing on us again, I'm going to be seriously pissed

Danny 9:34 AM: Fine. Suit yourself.

 

Carmilla lifted her eyebrow again.

“Can I judge her for being an asswipe?”

“You can't just call people an asswipe, you don't even know her. She's just... I dunno. Overprotective or something? And maybe temperamental.”

“I'm temperamental.”

“You don't make me feel guilty for not talking to you,” Laura retorted, ears turning red. “Or treat me like a five year old.”

“So, she is an asswipe, then?”

“Ugh. No. She's just neurotypical, and I don't think she really understands the concept of mental illness. She once told a guy that if he had depression he should think about starving kids in developing countries, because they have it so much worse.” Carmilla made a fake gagging noise, and Laura gave her a look half of sympathy and half of consternation. “I think, if she could see that it wasn't just a matter of changing your mind, she'd realize she was being a jerk, but I could never bring myself to stand up to her. She's literally six foot two. And gorgeous. How do you stand up to someone like that?”

Carmilla's heart constricted painfully, and she had to ferociously remind herself that Laura wasn't hers, would never be hers. Could never be. You don't own people, anyways; she was free to do what she wanted. And she was free to find the annoying, neurotypical amazon gorgeous if she wanted to. Despite some obvious flaws.

“I seriously don't know. I've mostly been on the end of the spectrum where we internalise everything bad ever said about you. If people tell me I'm in the wrong, I mostly just go, 'yeah, kinda figures'.” Carmilla shrugged, and went back to plucking at her bass.

“That's... I mean, aside from being pretty accurate for me too, just... sucky.”

“Yep.”

“So... what do I do?” Laura turned on her with those puppy-dog eyes, and the expression of being half broken and at a loss, and Carmilla folded like a cheap tent.

“I would just stop talking to her,” She admitted, “but my method of dealing with problems is to ignore them until they go away. If you want, I'll take your phone, and you can tell me what to send to her, and then... it's not really you doing it, is it?”

“Oh my god, Carm...” Laura stared at her, mouth agape, and Carmilla breifly wondered if she should backpedal like there was no tomorrow. “That's the best idea I think I've ever heard.”

“Uh, really?”

“Yes! This way, if it goes sideways, I can totally blame you, and it's pretty much true!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, cutie.”

“No, but like, you're a genius.” Laura nearly flung her phone at Carmilla, who had to take a minute to get used to the archaic design before signalling that she was ready. “Tell her that the arcade is a great idea, and that I have some free time next week.”

“When next week?'

“Uh. Friday? I can work up the courage over the week?”

“Ok, hang tough, cupcake.”

 

Laura 9:47 AM: I think I have some time next friday, if you wanted to go to the arcade. Invite...

 

“What was that bro's name? The dude who gave us burgers?”

“Kirsch.”

“Spelling?”

 

Laura 9:47 AM: I think I have some time next friday, if you wanted to go to the arcade. Invite Kirsch, too

Danny 9:51 AM: Sick, Hollis. I thought I was never gonna hear from you again lol. Should I invite LaF and Perry too?

 

“Yes, definitely,” Laura nodded vigorously. “I'm going to need them, if Danny's planning on being all... how she normally is.”

 

Laura 9:53 AM: Yes please

 

“Ask her if I can bring a friend too?”

 

Laura 9:54 AM: Is it ok if I invite someone?

 

“Who are you planning on taking, cupcake? Do you have actual friends that I'm unaware of?”

 

Danny 9:55 AM: Yeah! The more the merrier, right? Lol

 

“You, of course, silly.”

Carmilla turned to regard her with a look that was probably bordering on mild horror.

“Laura, no.”

“If there's any way at all that I'm going to be able to face any of these people again, especially Danny, I'm gonna need some serious moral support. And someone who knows what to do when I have that inevitable panic attack.”

Carmilla groaned internally.

“As much fun as it sounds, hanging out with a bunch of strangers, one of whom thinks I can willpower my way out of being depressed, is there not a singular other person you could take?”

“Oh, sure. Let me just ask my dad.” Laura rolled her eyes.

“Cupcake. Did you seriously just out-sass me?”

“Um....”

Carmilla held up her hand, and Laura hi-fived her with a little grin.

“I've taught you well.”

“Will you come? Please? Please say you'll come.”

“Ugh. Fine.”

“YAAAAY! Thanks, Carm!”

Screwed. So very, very screwed.

 

Cupcake 7:34 PM: Is there some kind of rule that says that cars have to completely disregard pedestrian safety along 4th?

Carmilla 7:36 PM: Yeah, they sent out bylaw information in the mail. Did you not get yours?

Cupcake 7:37 PM: Har har. I almost got run over in the crosswalk. I think that merits a little concern

Carmilla 7:39 PM: Oh no. Are you okay. Do you require medical attention.

Cupcake 7:39 PM: You total ass ahahaha

Cupcake 7:40 PM: Thanks, though.

Cupcake 7:40 PM: For just being you, I guess

Cupcake 7:41 PM: And for coming with me to the arcade next week

Cupcake 7:41 PM: I get the feeling I'm gonna really need you there

Carmilla 7:43 PM: No problem, cutie. Glad to help.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you see spelling or grammar mistakes, please let me know, and comments are super appreciated, and also wonderful! It's so great to see that people are enjoying this, and thank you all for taking the time to read it and chat with me :)


	7. Less than ideal ideas

This was already a disater, and Carmilla hadn't even walked into the arcade yet.

The whole place was crammed full of loud people, and she'd already spotted Kirsch, in the back; she'd tried to see who he was with, but there wasn't even enough room to swing a stick in there. She'd opted to wait outside, headphones in, trying to ignore the masses. This was a panic attack waiting to happen; maybe even ten panic attacks. How Laura was going to navigate this was beyind her. Her stomach turned uneasily, and she shifted from foot to foot, trying to dislodge the feeling of dread creeping up on her. She was lost enough in her own head that she didn't even notice Laura standing on her left until she felt a sharp poke in her ribs.

“What the f... oh, hey, cupcake.”

“Hey yourself. Are you... hiding?”

“Uh, yeah. Have you seen it in there? It's like free admission day at the petting zoo.” She shuddered.

“Crammed full of children?” Laura guessed correctly, grinning. She shifted her eyes to the windows of the arcade, and the grin dropped like ten pounds of bricks. “Jesus... you... really weren't kidding, huh?'

“We don't have to go in, you know,” Carmilla started, reaching out her hand to grab Laura's before she realised what it was doing and snatched it back. “We could go to the sushi joint over there instead. Or hell, anything, really.”

“N-no, that's... I can't blow them off,” she looked terrified, her face strained and pale. “I've already done too much of that.”

“Okay, but... just in case you decide you've had enough... just, um. Tell me you've lost your keys, and we'll get the hell out of there on the pretense of looking for them. Just. Make sure you leave them in your pocket.”

“Okay. Thanks,” she squeaked out, and opened the door with the look of someone going to war.

As soon as they were inside, the noise hit Carmilla like an eighteen-wheeler; it had looked loud from the outside, but it was nearly unbearable inside. She could feel herself starting to get itchy and crabby; she didn't like crowds any more than Laura did, she expected, but at least she didn't get panic attacks in them. She quickly grabbed Laura's hand, against her better judgement, and gave it a quick squeeze. Laura clamped her fingers down on it like it was a lifeline, glancing back with a determined stare, and then dragged them both toward the back of the room.

“...and then he totally bailed, like, right off the bike and onto the stairs. You could hear him hit the pavement. It was really intense!”

“Seriously? Why do you think that's something to brag about?” This from the tall redhead talking to Kirsch the Bro.

“Dude, it's the fact that he got up afterward and hopped right back on the bike that's the bragging part. That's dedication.”

“You're... oh, hey, Laura!” The girl who must have been Danny said brightly, face splitting into a wide grin. “I thought for sure you'd died, and we just hadn't heard about it yet!”

“Ahahah, yep, no, not quite yet!” Laura squeaked out brightly, squeezing Carmilla's hand tighter. _Someone's going to die, though,_ Carmilla grouched to herself, _if she doesn't stop fucking pointing out that Laura's been MIA._

“This is the friend you were inviting?” Danny asked, voice growing a degree or two colder as her eyes caught the hand-holding. She tilted her chin up like it might be a challange, and Carmilla had half a mind to growl at her, but settled for a half-smirk that probably looked more like a grimace.

“Yep! This is Carmilla,” Laura said, shooting her panic eyes, and Carmilla did the one thing she knows how to do best. Be a complete and utter asshole.

“You must be Lurch,” she cocked her head at Danny, affecting as bored a tone as she could manage, with screaming teenagers nearly crammed up every orifice she owned and Laura's hand in hers. “I thought no one could get as freakishly tall as Brotato over here, but I guess this is what I get for thinking I know everything.”

“Uh, her name's Danny,” Kirsch supplied usefully, looking unsure of whether or not he should get outraged.

“Oh, silly me,” Carmilla snarked, rolling her eyes. Laura was looking at her with a mixture of abject horror and pained amusement. She put her hand up to her face to cover up her half-grin.

“Wow, you're a charmer,” Danny deadpanned, and for a second, Carmilla could see them being friends. “I can't believe you ditched us for Elvira, over here.”

“I didn't ditch you,” Laura protested weakly. “I just... I had some stuff to deal with.”

“Stuff that prevented you from using your phone?”

“Uh, yeah,” Carmilla interjected, trying to push her way forward, giving Danny a glower. “She lost her hands in a freak snorkeling accident and both of them have been replaced with lifelike replicas. Now, where the fuck can I get food here? Please tell me they have shitty pizza or something.”

Danny stood frozen, giving her a look that was bored, bordering on seething rage, before turning on her heel and leaving without another word. Kirsch looked back and forth between Carmilla and Laura like he was sure he was missing something, and a small sound reached Carmilla from behind her. _Oh no. That might have been a sob. Way to go, dipshit_. The sound happened again, and Carmilla turned her head agonizingly slowly to see Laura with her free hand over her face. Her shoulders were shaking. Shit. Carmilla gently reached up to touch the hand, and Laura dropped it with a bout of hysterical laughing that tapered off into barely audible choking, tears streaming down her face.

“Uh, cupcake?”

“Lifelike replicas,” Laura offered by way of explanation, doubling over with laughter again. Kirsch started laughing, too, and Carmilla felt her mouth turn up at the corners before she carefully schooled her features.

“Dude, though, Danny looked pissed,” Kirsch managed between chuckles. “I'm gonna go see if I can calm her down.” He held out his hand, and Carmilla gave him a reluctant high-five. “We'll catch up with you after.”

“Oh please, do hurry,” Carmilla snarked after him, and Laura started laughing again, turning her face into Carmilla's shoulder in an attempt to hold herself upright. _Traitorous heart_ , Carmilla thought to herself as an aching warmth started in her chest.

“Oh my _god,_ Carm, that was so... not cool! I specifically asked you to play nice,” Laura wheezed out, wiping her eyes. “I can't believe you did that.”

“Yeah, well. She started it.”

“ _So_ not helping. I'm going to have to apologize for a million years.”

“Incidentally... you seem to be holding up okay. I was... I was a little worried. You know. That I might have...”

“Set me off? I think that's why I laughed so hard, to be honest,” she admitted, grinning a little guiltily. “It was either laugh or have a panic attack, and for some reason, my body decided laughing was the better option. I feel... a little better, though. I've been wanting to tell Danny off for prying for... well, forever, really.”

“Glad to be of service,” Carmilla said dryly. There was a small commotion, and two more red heads barreled up to them, one wearing a shit-eating grin, and the other looking severely overwhelmed.

“Hey, L; what's this I hear about you losing your hands?”

 

“No cheese flinging!” Perry reprimanded, while Carmilla aimed a glob of the stuff at Danny, who was surprisingly chill once she'd gotten over the razzing. She was currenlty leveling Carmilla with a death stare, holding a slice of pepperoni in her hand, and patiently waiting.

“Let's go, Corpse Bride; I play sports.”

“I think you underestimate my want to do you bodily harm,” Carmilla replied, narrowing her eyes. Laura rolled her eyes and stepped lightly away from the two of them, towards Kirsch. Food and being out on the street had improved her mood considerably, and Carmilla was happy to see that a lot of the tension had left her shoulders, and that she was getting into the easy routine of relaxing with her friends. She had the suspicion that LaF had a lot to do with that; they seemed incredibly calm and had a gentle humour that sure as shit made Carmilla more comfortable. She strongly suspected that they'd had some words with Danny as well.

“Bring on your terrifying cheese-weapons, Karnstein; I'm not afraid.”

Carmilla flung the cheese glob mid-sentence, and caught her off guard. It hit her square in the face, and she sputtered indignantly while Carmilla smirked and Kirsch whooped.

“Ooooooooooooh, score one for Scary Hottie,” he laughed, and then yelped when Laura elbowed him in the ribs. “Uh, Carmilla. Scary Carmilla.”

A piece of pepperoni flopped onto Carmilla's shoulder, and she stared at it, aghast.

“Ugh. It's touching me,” she made a face and flicked it off and onto the ground while Danny grinned at her.

“I can't believe you don't like pepperoni; I knew there was a reason I didn't like you.”

“I'm sure that has nothing to do with my charming personality,” Carmilla retorted, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

“What personality? Near as I can tell, you don't have one.”

“Oooooooooo..!”

“Shut up, Wilson,” Danny barked, but it there was no malice in it.

“Ouch, bro!”

“Well, this is me,” Danny pointed at her beat up old car, grimacing. “Don't judge it by the rust.”

“I would never,” Carmilla deadpanned, holding a hand to her heart as though wounded.

“You're still driving that thing? Didn't it break down on you, like, three times last year?” Laura asked with a giggle. Carmilla tried hard not to grimace at that, or at the way Laura bounced awkwardly around Danny like a mini-sattelite, or the way... _no, stop it. Not helping_.

“Yeah, well. It's my baby,” Danny answered sheepishly. “You still want that ride back, Kirsch?”

“Hell yeah, bro!” He yanked the back seat door open and hit his head on the roof of the car in his rush to get in. “Ow!”

“You can sit in the front, dingus,” Danny rolled her eyes. “God. Brothers.” Carmilla's eyebrows shot up nearly to her hairline.

“They're not actually siblings,” Laura explained with a giggle.

“Might as well be,” Danny sighed dramatically, popping her front door open. “Hey, Hollis, c'mere.” She scooped Laura into a one-armed hug, and then patted the top of her head. Laura pouted indignantly, and Danny grinned, a little too brightly for Carmilla's liking. “It was really good to see you. I'm sorry for being kind of an ass. Uh. I worry.”

“You weren't an ass,” Laura waved her hand in a placating gesture. “I'm just... over-sensitive I think.”

“Should join the Summers when you get back to school; hazing would toughen you up,” Danny replied with a wink.

“Uhh.. haha, yeah, I'll think about that.”

“Cool, see you next time. LaF, Perry.” Danny waved briefly before getting in, and starting up the car with a belch of smoke.

“Dude, can we listen to Taylor Swift?”

“ _No,_ Wilson.”

LaFontaine chucked as they drove off, turning to give Perry a little nudge with their elbow.

“We should probably get going, too. Bus to catch,” they offered, and Perry gave them a relieved smile.

“Yes, I have an awful lot of homework to do, but it was really very good to see you again Laura. And to meet you, Carmilla. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of you.”

“Uh, yeah,” Carmilla replied, while a strange feeling turned over in her chest. _Why would she think that? Was that a thing she wanted? What exactly did that mean?_

“And Laura, if you need anything, or want to talk about anything, shoot me a text,” LaF pulled her into a bear-hug. “It was really good to see you.”

“Same, LaF. I missed you guys.”

“Cheers, L. C.”

“Bye!” Laura grinned brightly.

Carmilla waved at them as they went, and the feeling of confusion intensified. Laura started walking in the direction that would eventually take them towards their respective homes, and Carmilla turned and started following her almost automatically, lost in thought. It was a couple minutes before Laura broke the silence.

“I can hear you thinking. What's going on?”

_I feel weird. People might actually want to hang out with me. I think I made friends for the first time in years. I'm still not sure why. I still don't feel like I'll ever feel normal, even though I've been on medication for a month and a bit. I'm worried nothing will fix me. I'm worried I'll never be able to let go of how I feel about you_.

“Um. Just wondering how it went for you. You seemed to relax a lot, so...”

Laura gave her a look that said that she knew that Carmilla was hiding something, but thankfully let it go.

“Yeah. I think it was scarier in my head, really; once I was there with them, it was the same as it always was, I guess. It took me a while to get used to the idea that they weren't upset with me, or just playing along, you know? But it was really nice to see them all again. I'd missed that.”

Carmilla hummed her agreement.

“You seem to have made up with Danny.”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, she's not perfect, or anything, but who is, right?” Laura sounded nervous, like the topic was dangerous. Maybe it was. “She's normally pretty good, I think she was just annoyed that we didn't talk for so long. Like I said, she... doesn't really understand. But I think LaF had some things to say to her about being a little overbearing and guilting. And she apologized, so...”

“It's good, creampuff. I'm glad you're getting around it.” It hurt to say, but it was true. Laura deserved a good support network, and Danny wasn't the worst once she'd gotten over being pissy. And once Laura had emphatically reassured her that she and Carmilla weren't dating.

“Yeah, me too,” Laura let out a breathy laugh, a whoosh of relief. “You're... you're doing a lot better these days, hey? I mean... I know depression can be cyclical, but it's really good to see that you're having kind of an up-swing, and I'm glad that it's going well for you, and I hope that it holds out for you for a long time, because you deserve to be happy, and...”

“Woah, woah, slow down,” Carmilla laughed, holding her hands up in a now-familiar gesture that had Laura wrinking her nose in feigned indignation. Her stomach turned, and she sucked in a deep breath and came out with it before she could second-guess herself. “I'm on anti-depressants.”

There was a moment of stunned silence while Laura processed this.

“I thought you didn't want to be on them?”

“I didn't, but...” She nearly shuddered at the memory of laying on her couch, eyeing the bridge from the window, hands dangling limply off the furniture as she tried to muster up enough willpower to get her to walk out the door and just fix the problem, permanently. “It was that or...”

“I didn't know,” Laura said quietly, so quietly she was almost whispering. “I didn't know it was that bad.”

“I didn't either, really. It was so slow, and over such a long time, that by the time it was that bad, I didn't even know how I'd gotten there. It just felt normal.” She shrugged loosely, trying to shake the feeling. They walked in silence for a bit, before Carmilla felt a soft touch on her hand, and Laura's fingers were slipping into hers, gently, quietly. She glanced over to see Laura smiling softly at her, and she felt like maybe she couldn't breathe, or talk, or think.

Laura looked proud of her.

 

Cupcake 6:31 PM: Thanks for telling me, Carm.

Cupcake 6:31 PM: About the medication, I mean.

Carmilla 6:37 PM: Well, someone had to do it

Cupcake 6:38 PM: Oh, ha ha. I'm really glad it's working for you, though.

Carmilla 6:39 PM: Me too

Cupcake 6:40 PM: I've been thinking about it

Cupcake 6:40 PM: Trying it, I mean

Cupcake 6:40 PM: But I think anxiety's a lot harder to treat, and my dad

Cupcake 6:41 PM: Well, he doesn't really think it's serious?

Carmilla 6:42 PM: Your dad doesn't get a say, Laura. You have to live in that confusing little hamster ball of a brain, and you should do what you think is right for it.

Cupcake 6:43 PM: That's the first time you've ever used my name, you know.

Carmilla 6:45 PM: I have no idea what you're talking about

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as it turns out my depression has been flaring up something awful in the last little bit, and it doesn't look like it's going to be letting up on me in the foreseeable future, so updates may be a little more sporadic. I'm also having a really hard time being hard on Laura, because I feel a little protective of her, so she's dealing with things... better than expected. Who knows, though; that might change. As always, if you see spelling or grammar errors, please let me know, and comments are always very much appreciated!


	8. A brief interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a very short interlude - the next chapter is giving me a hard time, so I just wrote a little bit of something to distract myself from it. Hope you enjoy it anyhow!

“Are you doing okay, there?”

“So far,” Carmilla answered. She was nearing the end of her pain tolerance, but she wasn't ready to give up just yet. Little bit more. Few more minutes.

“Your hands are shaking.”

She looked down, and sure enough, there they were, rattling in her lap. She sighed.

“Yeah, okay. Maybe a quick break.”

“Eat some of that chocolate,” her artist suggested with a half-grin. “I'll grab you some water, and we'll start back up in ten minutes or so. Sound good?”

“Yes, _mom_.”

Mel chortled as she set down her machine on the tray next to the chair, and stripped off her gloves. Carmilla breathed out a long sigh, and it shook in her throat; she reached for her chocolate, snapped off a few squares, and popped them in her mouth. This was taking longer than she'd expected, but as she rotated her arm to get a good look at what was going on there, she couldn't say she minded all that much. Bleeding aside, it looked fucking phenomenal.

Mel pressed a cup of water into her hands and she gave her a grateful smile.

“You've been sitting really well. You're super easy to work on,” Mel offered, streching out her arms and rotating her neck. “Most people fidget.”

“It's kind of soothing,” Carmilla tried, then stopped. Her counsellor was trying to get her to work on being present, on examining the things she felt and why, and assigning them space to exist. It was harder with her emotions, but somehow the pain of the needle rested easily in amongst all her turmoil. “It's like background noise, maybe. Something I can keep listening to that reminds me that I'm here.”

“I can get that,” Mel nodded, pulling on new gloves and applying cold antiseptic to the tattoo. It felt amazing after the hot discomfort of inking. “I get that feeling too, a lot of the time. You aren't worried about anything else, just about your breathing, and the sensation of it, and the fact that you're watching art come together on your skin. Same kind of high you get from running.”

“I guess,” Carmilla shrugged one shoulder. “I don't really exercise, so.”

“If you like this, you would probably like that, too. Gets you out of your head for a little bit.”

_I could use that_ , Carmilla mused as Mel started up the machine again, applying ink to the end.

It wasn't until after she'd left, giddy, with her arm wrapped in plastic and her care instructions, that she considered that it might be more than that. A way of staking her claim, putting marks on her flesh that say 'this is mine, no one else can have it', a way of flipping her awkward, broken brain the finger and really living inside her body. To anyone else, it was just a tattoo of a panther with a bone in its mouth, but to her it was an oath.

Who the fuck needed running, anyway?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading, and comments are very much appreciated :)


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